The TriDad Life

Dear Beanpod,

Yesterday, we took you to the Good Friday service here at St. Lorenz in Frankenmuth. It’s traditionally reverent service, given the occasion. We’re marking a death that echoes for all time. You, of course, are still unaware. Your Papa read from the Good Book from the front of the church, which, of course, you noticed and wanted everyone around to know that that was your Papa! Your frequent loud outbursts of joy and curiosity broke through the somber and reflective atmosphere – you made us stifle our own giggles at your sounds and movements; I think (hope!) that little amusement was shared by the parishioners around us.

Tomorrow is Easter, and we get to celebrate. But before we do, I want to talk a little about Good Friday. I’ve written to you a few times about the inconvenient truth that our own mortality hovers over us in life as a constant specter. It’s something that, albeit morbidly, brings everyone on this planet together in a way that it seems nothing else can. Whatever lot we get in this life, we all share the same fate. We won’t be here forever.

This thought doesn’t and shouldn’t dominate your day to day life, but I find it creep into my thoughts from time to time as I’m enjoying some of the happiest moments together with our family. We take you to the park. You run to your Papa with his arms open wide to embrace you and take you in. Your smile seems even wider. I take in the moment. We have so much joy.

And then, just for a moment, I feel a pang of sadness. There’s a little, tricky, slippery thought that sneaks into my mind, that there will come a time when we all won’t be here, together. I push it away – it’s just a thought of something I don’t have to confront yet, after all.

As Christians, we recognize Good Friday as the final step of a grand plan that we will never really understand. What we’re taught to believe happened on Good Friday is that God, who became one of us, a man, died a painful and humiliating death as a sort of debt payment to restore humanity’s true birth right. To be with God, to rejoice and experience joy forever. To keep our family and all the families out there together. Perhaps, to live out all those wonderful days in the park, as many times as we want, and as long as we desire.

Believing in such things can certainly be extremely helpful for you as a way to live your life here on Earth. There is no doubt that I feel great comfort in believing that one day, I’ll be reunited with those I’ve loved that have gone before. It helps me when I’m grappling with life’s tragedies and contradictions. The world we live in is a beautiful place, but terrible things happen to people all the time. None of us are immune from tragedy.

As you get older, you’ll understand that this type of belief system is not unique. In my time on Earth, I’ve gotten to know many different kinds of people from so many different backgrounds and an almost infinite number of belief systems. When you get down to it, we’re all just trying to grapple with that sneaky, tricky thought.

We’re not going to be here forever.

Depending on a variety of factors, people around the world have been conditioned to cope in different ways. Some believe we’ll be reincarnated into different forms. Others believe in a different path to eternal joy alongside God than the Good Friday methodology. In fact, there are even many variations one can ascribe to the Good Friday concept, given all the different denominations and localizations of the Christian faith that have multiplied over generations. I’ve also known many people that have told me convincingly they are extremely comfortable knowing that their existence ends when their time on Earth is done. This particular view seems to be more en vogue now. I could fill a book with the different belief systems there are to choose from – there are, of course, many people much smarter and well studied than I that have indeed filled books on this very subject.

For my part, the message of Good Friday has become more and more compelling as the years have gone by. There’s a certain beauty and soothing comfort that comes with the logic that I’ve found underpins the Christian faith, as I understand it anyways. The nature of all things is love, and this life we’re living now, despite some of its most beautiful moments, is a distorted reality from the nature of all things. To rectify the situation, the God of this great love created a logical pathway for his creation to be reconnected to this natural state, and it was not without sacrifice. It seems like it could work.

There is power in believing in Good Friday, beanpod. When you take it down to its most fundamental element, it is an exercise in humility and supplication. It makes you come to grips with the reality that you are a contributor to the state of affairs for humanity here on Earth. We’re all part of this mess, and the cost is great. This helps you to relate to people, whether or not they might share your particular belief system. It brings you closer to people, opening the the door to deep embraces, and even immersive life experiences with others that will impact you forever. It may help you develop a servant heart.

But that isn’t all. Above all, there is hope in Good Friday, because Good Friday isn’t the end of the story. That’s what we can celebrate tomorrow, and for all time. That’s what I believe, beanpod, beyond all understanding. I believe that my love for you will last forever. What a beautiful thought that is. I can’t imagine living any other way.

Happy Easter, beanpod.

Love,

Dad